Love and Pixie Dust- A Bay Yanlış Reimagining.

When Pixie Tackled Bigfoot

Özgür

She raised a skeptical eyebrow and I fought the urge to kiss her. It seemed like I was always fighting urges these days.

“You can’t be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting,” she said, her tone ripe with disbelief. I couldn't believe it either and yet the words just burst out of me.

“Marry me Pix.” 

Her eyes glistened and for a terrifying moment, she looked like she was on the verge of tears again.

I loved her eyes. Especially when they danced with laughter or sparked with temper but most of all I loved when they melted with desire. After that night on the terrace, I promised myself that I’d do anything in my power to never see them filled with tears.

But today, tears had trembled on her lashes, her distress had been palpable with the way her hands twisted the hem of her t-shirt and the sight of it broke something in me. My Pixie was hurting and I had to fix it. End of. I wouldn’t analyze the compulsion. I told myself I’d do the same for any woman in desperate straits.

There was laughter in my head.

Would you though? My inner voice piped up. My inner voice was a snarky asshole.

But the compulsion to fix the situation and make her happy again was riding me hard and I was helpless against it. I would turn myself inside out to make things better for her. She was carrying my...martian, after all.

I glanced down at the slight bump of her belly and something that had taken root the day of the visit to the doctor's office magnified inside me. I thought of the ultrasound picture I'd snatched from the doctor and carried in my wallet. My heartbeat stuttered and I felt breathless again. My throat closed on a lump of emotion.

"Marry me," I repeated softly. Somehow, I'd moved closer and my hands were planted on each side of her head, caging her against the door.

"Özgür," she sighed. "That’s the worst idea ever. We are in the middle of one bad idea. We can’t add another one. It will mess with the space-time continuum,” she whispered, her eyes melting. I leaned even closer to inhale her scent. My eyes drifted closed and I fisted my hands to keep them from pulling her up against me.

"Think about it. It’s foolproof and we don’t even have to get married. We can just be fake engaged for a while," I murmured.

Alarm bells were blaring, emergency lights flashing in my head. The reasonable part of me shouted abort! Abort!  I ignored all of it.

She placed her hand on my forehead. “Hmmm. Feels cool but obviously, you’re suffering from a hemorrhagic brain fever or something equally catastrophic."

“Say yes," I murmured. Suddenly this fake engagement was more important to me than my next breath. She swallowed hard and blinked rapidly. For a split second her eyes went liquid soft and she sighed softly. I blinked and her face cleared of all expression.

“You've gone raving mad. Was it your colossal morning wood? Did all your blood flow south and fail to make its way back up? This seems to happen to you a lot. You should get that checked out,” she said in a choked voice.

“It only happens around you, Pix. But you refuse to put us out of our misery,” I said, smiling to mask the edge of longing in my words. She snorted and I suppressed the urge to kiss her until we were both breathless with it. My dick roared back to life every time she so much as breathed in my direction and with her standing so close and her scent invading my head, I was having a hard time keeping it from going rogue. I reminded myself sternly that she had set the ground rules and I had to respect them.